


'Tis I, Reginald Hargreeves the Fifth

by ExploringAce



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, I can't keep a consistent tone for the life of me, Number Five | The Boy-centric, There's also some angst in there somewhere?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExploringAce/pseuds/ExploringAce
Summary: In order to survive in 1963, Five is forced to resort to impersonating the most arrogant, despicable, cold-hearted monster he’s ever met: R*ginald Hargreeves.And somehow, people actually fall for it.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & The Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 84





	'Tis I, Reginald Hargreeves the Fifth

**Author's Note:**

> This thing, whatever it is, is based on that one clip of Aidan Gallagher dressing up as an old mustachioed man named Reginald that I saw circulating around the net some time ago. Go watch it if you haven’t. It’s ridiculous how funny it is with the context of TUA.
> 
> Also, warning for Diego being incredibly OOC since he somehow ended up being the only character in the fic with even a semblance of a brain cell.

Clearly, they couldn’t just waltz into the D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Co. like they owned the place. Even though it was in the dead of night, they would be in trouble if security caught them, especially seeing as one of them was currently a man on the run. That’s why Five knew he’d have to come up with a clever disguise, one so perfect that no one would even question it. And he’d managed to put together something so brilliant it just might work.

“Bro, what the hell are you wearing?” Diego asked. Well, everyone was a critic.

“My disguise,” Five said. “Hold on, it’s not done yet.”

He fumbled through the grey suit’s pockets, finally procuring the most important piece: the grey ‘stache. He put it on, carefully, before standing up straight, looking his brother in the eye. 

“Number Two, don’t just slouch around, we have an apocalypse to prevent,” he said in a voice a few octaves higher than usual.

Diego closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out again. “Dude. My man. What the actual fuck.”

Five took the ‘stache off again. “Pst, Diego. It's me, Five,” he whispered, then put it back on and winked.

Diego blinked. “Yes! I know that!”

Just then, Lila entered, stopping abruptly when she noticed Five. “Woah, who’s the old man?”

“Young lady, I have no time for your nonsense. ‘Tis I, Reginald Hargreeves the Fifth, and I am far too important for the likes of you,” Five said, trying to ooze out an air of authority.

Lila didn’t seem to know what to say to that, which Five counted as a win.

“That’s a horrible impression of Dad,” Diego said. “Also,  _ why _ are you doing an impression of Dad?”

“Impression? I’ll say, I’ll say, I’ll say, I haven’t the faintest what you’re on about, sonny-boy,” Five said, twirling his ‘stache. “ _ But _ , if I did, I’d say that it’s an  _ impeccable _ impression, and that it’s necessary in order to execute this covert mission with the stealth it requires.”

Diego shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”

“As serious as a three-legged possum in a slanted outhouse,” Five said, taking out his pocket watch to check the time. “Now, shall we skedaddle?”

“I miss the psych ward,” Diego murmured before Five dragged him off on their mission.

* * *

“Oh my God, it’s Regdel Hardgrief,” Lila said, several hours later when Five returned.

Diego just frowned, seemingly ignoring Five altogether. “Is that who I think it is?”

It hadn’t been quite the welcome that Five had hoped for (not that he  _ ever _ got what he hoped for, but if he wasn’t just a bit of an optimist, he’d have thrown the towel in the ring years ago). No ‘hey, sorry for leaving without telling you,’ or even, ‘glad to see you’re alive.’ No, it was a thankless job to take care of the Umbrella idiots.

In Diego’s defense, it did look like he’d been stabbed, if the wound in his stomach was anything to go by. But that was hardly an excuse; Five’s shrapnel wound still bled now and then and he hadn’t slept  _ a while _ and couldn’t remember the last time he had a full meal, and he was doing just fine, thank you very much. His siblings were a bunch of babies, the lot of them.

“Now, Number Two, be polite to our guest. I didn’t raise you to have no manners,” Five said and nearly fell as Pogo crawled from his one shoulder to the other.

“You didn’t raise me at all,” Diego said. “And just tell me whether or not you kidnapped baby Pogo.”

“I did no such thing,” Five said, moving his overlip so the ‘stache would wiggle in annoyance. “Dear Pogo here is my most successful experiment.” He wiggled his finger at Pogo and started talking as if to a baby. “Aren’t you, my boy? Yes you are. You’re my favourite, you are. Nothing like that imbecile Number Two.”

Diego tried to get up at that but was held back by Lila applying pressure on his wound. He groaned in pain but still managed to send Five a glare.

Thankless Pogo simply looked at Five with wide eyes before pulling at the ‘stache, ripping it off.

“Ow!” Five yelped, then lost his balance as Pogo scratched him and jumped off. He turned around just in time to see the small chimp jump through the nearest window. He ran to it, ignoring the shards of glass cracking beneath his shoes, and watched as Pogo ran down the street in the early morning light. In the distance, the sound of a woman screaming could be heard.

“Good job, Diego. You scared him off,” Five said, rubbing his now sore overlip.

“Oh, so I’m Diego now? No more of that ‘Number Two’ bullshit?” Diego said. 

Five rolled his eyes. “Relax, it was just a disguise. Don’t be so childish.”

“Where did Randell Heartbinder go?” Lila asked, looking around in confusion.

Five considered filling her in, then decided it was better to keep her on her toes. Suspicious as she was, it was best if she didn’t know about this particular trick he had up his sleeve. Especially if he had to use it again at some point.

* * *

Turned out, he found a use for it already that following Monday. During his and Diego’s infiltration of the D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Co., he’d found an invitation for a party at the Mexican Consulate. If Reginald was going to be anywhere that night, it would be there.

Of course, it was possible that they could manage to smuggle in by grabbing Diego and Lila some nicer clothes from Elliot’s parents’ wardrobe… but why take the chance when they could arrive with someone who was actually invited?

Five was just about to put on the ‘stache when he heard Diego groaning behind him. “Are you kidding me?  _ Again? _ ”

Five turned and looked Diego up and down. At least the suit made him look less like a patient who’d escaped from a mental hospital just a few days prior, though the hair and beard were doing him no favors.

“What?” Five said, his voice flat.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Diego asked, gesturing to Five.

Five looked down himself. It was the same grey suit he’d used just the other day. He’d already inspected it for blood stains and couldn’t find any now - while he couldn’t remember fighting anyone while wearing it, they still had a way of appearing on his clothes from seemingly out of nowhere, at least in his experience.

Feeling satisfied that he was presentable, he tugged at the jacket and sent Diego a leveled gaze. “For the party, of course.”

Diego shook his head. “No. Nuh-uh. You’re not pretending to be Dad again, it’s creepy as hell.”

“Then how’re we gonna get in, huh?” Five said. Really, it was so like his dumbass brother to complain when Five was handing him a possible solution to their problems on a silver platter. “Were you invited? Did you somehow charm the Consulate General of Mexico? No? Well, Dad apparently did, so he’s our best chance.”

Diego’s look soured even more at that. “It’s not going to work, Five. You’re impersonation’s shit. No one’s gonna fall for it anyways.”

Five sniffed and stared down at the ‘stache. “I’ll have you know my impersonation’s impeccable.”

“It’s really not,” Diego the dirty liar said. “Bro, you’re, like, half a foot too short, nowhere near as old as he is, and you sound nothing like him.  _ At all _ . How long ago was it since you saw him last?”

“45 years,” Five mumbled. It may have been a while, but some of Five’s memories of their father were still so horribly clear in his mind. He knew he was  _ on point _ with this, even if that stupid idiot didnt’ think so.

“Right,” Diego said. “So it makes sense why you don’t remember jackshit about him. But putting on some stupid mustache isn’t gonna cover for that.”

Lila entered, having put on her cyan dress for the evening. It was fine, except it could, in Five’s humble opinion, use a bit more sparkle. Still, at least she looked presentable. She probably wanted to look good while stabbing them in the back.

“Looking nice, Five,” she said. She then put her hand up. “Up top!”

She’d tried the same thing yesterday morning, and Five had immediately found it suspicious. Just to make sure, he’d spent what time he had after parting with Vanya today high-fiving strangers on the street, or at least trying to. No one had reciprocated, all of them looking at him with confusion and wariness, and a few had asked if they should help him find his parents. For those, he’d turned the offered high-five into a light tap on the head and blinked away.

It might have been that he still needed to practice his ‘I’m an innocent little 13-year-old boy, goo goo gah gah’ look, but even then, the fact that  _ no one _ had known what the hell it was about was suspicious to say the least. That told him that the phenomenon wasn’t invented yet, or at least not widely spread. So how the hell would Lila know?

He’d have to keep an eye on her. If she was a time traveler, the very fact that she’d been able to hide it so far spoke to her cunning and intelligence. He could not afford to underestimate her.

Five ignored her compliment and put on the ‘stache, readying himself to get into character.

Lila gasped. “Ragnarok Harbinger! Where’d Five go?”

* * *

After properly meeting with Reginald again during their light supper, Five could see that he’d gone about impersonating him all wrong. Truly, it was a miracle that no one had seen through his disguise. After all, he’d been missing the monocle!

He therefore wasted no time procuring one after his siblings failed spectacularly at meeting a simple deadline. It was fine. Really. He didn’t mind striking a deal with  _ the Handler _ of all people. He didn’t mind probably playing right into her hand. He didn’t mind doing all of that  _ for nothing _ . He didn’t mind  _ at all. _

So, after blowing off some steam and stealing a serviceable monocle, he put on the suit again and started preparing himself for a round of paradox psychosis, baby powder and all.

“Five, what… are you okay?” Luther asked as he walked in on him.

Five chugged the last bit of water, then gasped out, “I’m gonna need to be hydrated.”

“Hydrated?” Luther watched him as he put on the powder. “What’s with the baby powder? And the suit?”

“It’ll help with the itching,” Five said. He then turned to the last few items he needed and started putting them on. “And it’s a disguise.”

That just seemed to make Luther even more confused. “What itching? There’s itching? And why the hell do you need a disguise?” His eyes widened as something inside that monkey brain of his must have clicked. “You  _ do _ have a plan.”

“Well, it’s a desperation move.” He put on the ‘stache, completing the costume. “But since our brain-dead siblings are-”

“Wha- Dad?” Luther said, taking a step back.

Five sighed, then took off the ‘stache again. “Luther, it’s me.”

“Five, I…” Luther looked around. “Dad was just here, what…”

“It was me, you big moron.” Five gestured to his outfit. “I’ gonna go find myself, and for that, I’ll be impersonating Dad.”

Luther frowned. “Five, I know you act a bit like him sometimes. To be honest, the rest of us have talked about how you sometimes remind us a bit of-”

“ _ Do not _ finish that sentence,” Five hissed. He then stopped himself before he’d say something he’d later regret and took a deep breath. Rage wouldn’t fit with his performance anyways.

“Look, all I’m saying is, if you need time to figure out yourself, that’s understandable. That’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past year,” Luther said. “But don’t do it by acting like you’re somebody else. And  _ especially _ not Dad.”

What the hell was he on about now? Then it hit Five: Luther was an even bigger idiot than he’d given him credit for. “Luther, if you recall, I was sent to 1963 on a job by the Commission to make sure the president was assassinated.”

Realization finally dawned in Luther’s eyes. “Oh! So, wait, your  _ old _ self is out there.”

“Precisely,” Five said. He rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, already feeling the jitters of paradox psychosis. “With a briefcase that can get us home.”

“Wait, so why are you dressing up like Dad?”

“I can’t just walk up to myself and expect everything to turn out alright. Especially with paradox psychosis.” He saw Luther open his mouth to ask yet another question and held out a hand. “We’ll get to that in a bit. Instead, I’ll pretend I’m Dad and say I need the briefcase for saving the world or something.”

He gave Luther a bit to process it, awaiting further questions on the topic. It was better to get them out of the way now than during their meeting with himself.

Still frowning, Luther asked, “Why can’t you just be honest? Tell yourself why you need the briefcase. I mean, he’s  _ you _ .”

“Exactly. The odds of him trying to murder me would be too high, even with a spotter,” Five said. “No, this is the only way. And I’ll need you to keep an eye on me. Make sure I stay on task and don’t try to murder  _ him _ .”

“Why would you try to murder each other?” Luther asked bewildered, clearly understanding nothing about the finer intricacies of time travel.

“Paradox psychosis. As I said, we’ll get to that later. For now, I want your opinion.” He put on the ‘stache again and folded his hands behind his back. “What do you think?”

Of all the siblings, Luther was the one who’d spent the most time with Reginald. As such, if anyone could judge how fittingly he’d done the job, it’d be him, not stupid and judgemental Diego.

“Dad?” Luther said again. Either that meant Five was spot-on and he was complimenting his success or… no, the idiot had fallen for it again.

Five pulled off the ‘stache. “Still me.”

Luther’s eyes widened. “Woah, I know your blinking is good, but-”

“No, I…” Five closed his eyes and started to massage his temples. “You really need to get this into that thick skull of yours if we’re gonna pull this off, alright? Now, who am I?”

“You’re Five,” Luther said, as if it were the plainest thing in the world, which  _ it really should have been _ .

Five put the ‘stache back on. “And now?”

“Dad? Where…” Luther looked around until his eyes narrowed, locking on Five’s. “Wait a minute… you did something to Five.”

“I  _ am _ Five,” Five tried, even more insistent.

Luther just kept staring, as if something inside him had broken.

Sighing, Five took off the ‘stache yet again.

Luther gasped. “Oh! I get it! You’re switching places with Dad!”

Five throwing himself into a pool full of sharks and letting them devour him whole would be a whole lot less painful than this.

“Okay, one last time. I’m Five, alright?” He kept staring at Luther until he nodded. “Alright. And I’m not moving. I’m not blinking away. I’m staying. Right here. No one is taking my place. I’m simply putting this,” he held up the ‘stache, “on, and that’s it. Dad’s not really here. I’m just going to  _ look _ like him. You got that?” 

Luther nodded again.

“Good.” Slowly, he moved to put on the ‘stache, not breaking eye-contact with Luther. When it was finally on, he spread his arms wide, looking at his brother expectantly. “So? Who am I?”

Luther blinked. “Dad?”

“You know what? Fuck this,” Five said, ripping it off yet again, a bit rougher than necessary this time, making himself wince. “Luther, you’re gonna go with Dad and meet past me. It’s very,  _ very _ important that you don’t let past me and Dad try to kill each other. Just make sure past me gives Dad the briefcase, and we’ll be good.” There, direct orders, plain and simple. Should be doable for Luther’s minion mind.

Luther processed it, nodded, then frowned. “Is that actually gonna work? Shouldn’t we spend our time tracking down Allison, Diego, and Vanya, making sure they’re okay? Or maybe try to figure out what’s causing the apocalypse so we can prevent it?”

Of all the idiotic things that could have come out of his mouth… “Of course it’s gonna work. You think I’d waste my time with a little side-mission that won’t go anywhere? Trust me, the best way to prevent the apocalypse is to just get out of here since we’re probably the cause of it. Whatever the others are doing won’t amount to anything anyways. It’s what  _ we’re _ doing that will make things progress and allow us to move forward.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now, come on, we- I mean, you and  _ Dad _ , are going to an Irish pub.”

* * *

Five had been working for the Commission for a while now. Long enough to notice a trend.

Usually, they sent him to the early or mid-1900s. There’d been a few missions in earlier time periods, such as a particularly long and boring one in the 14th century. There’d been even fewer in the late 1900s - a quick one in 1988, an odd one in 1993, two in 1997, and that’s it. The mission he’d been sent to that was closest to his own time was in early 2001, and that was a particularly difficult one, one he could easily see the other assassins failing miserably at. Other than that, they kept him in the past, well outside of his family’s reach.

It made sense. They didn’t trust him, didn’t want him to affect his own personal timeline. So they kept him away from anyone he’d known before. Made it as hard as possible for him to create a paradox by changing his own past.

Which was why Luther and Reginald were two of the last people he’d ever expect to walk up to him in a pub in 1963.

First came Luther - older and much bigger than when they’d been children, looking like Five remembered from the apocalypse - and that was a big enough shock as it was. Five almost grabbed the briefcase and blinked away right then and there. Could it be a trick? Some test concocted by the Commission? Because Five couldn’t give a reason as to why in hell Luther would be hanging around in the 1960s,  _ decades _ before he was even born.

So Five had been just about to flee when, around the corner, an even more impossible person stepped in: his father, Reginald Hargreeves. Like Luther, he looked different from what Five remembered from his childhood: he was younger, not a single wrinkle in sight, and while his ‘stache was grey, the rest of his hair still had its dark color. But that could be explained - they were in the past, so it made sense that Reginald would be younger; Five was probably older than him at this point, as odd as that was to wrap his head around. It also seemed like he was shorter than he remembered, though this could be chalked up to him seeming like such an imposing figure during Five’s childhood. Still, there was no mistaking the identity of the men in front of him.

“I’ll say, I’ll say, I’ll say,” Reginald said, strutting towards him. “Number Five. It’s been a while. Or, should I say,  _ will _ be a while.” He winked at Five.

“Don’t freak out,” Luther said, which Five had been so busy doing that he’d forgotten he was doing it.

A part of Five wanted to run far,  _ far _ away from whatever this was, and another part of him was afraid to even move a muscle. He could see he had Reginald’s full focus, which he knew from experience never resulted in anything good, but escaping from it 45 years ago had turned out to be so much worse than anything he could have ever imagined, so he didn’t really know what to do.

“Are you the owner of this here briefcase?” Reginald asked, his eyebrows bouncing up and down.

Five tried to talk but found he’d lost his voice. He swallowed and tried again, silently begging to whoever was in charge of this damned universe that Reginald hadn’t noticed. “Yes.”

“You’re planning on breaking your contract with the Commision and going to the future so you can prevent the apocalypse and save your siblings,” Reginald said. He sounded so convinced, as if he somehow  _ knew _ he was right, which he of course was, even if Five had never told a soul. Except for Dolores, of course, but he knew she’d never gossip about something like that.

If this was a trick by the Commission, it sounded like they already knew what he was up to, and in that case, he was screwed. If it really was just Luther and Reginald who had either somehow time travelled or knew far more than they ought to… he really didn’t know what it meant or whether to confess.

In any case, Reginald didn’t wait for a response. “You’ll be travelling using your own powers. Therefore, you’ll have no need for that briefcase. We’ll do you a favor, take it off your hands, and you can be on your way.”

That made something inside Five click. He hated his job with a fiery passion, he looked down on all his co-workers and superiors, and he was against the very ethical foundations that the organization was built upon. However, as much as he disliked it, some of the Commission’s training had stuck, and one of the first and most important things you learned working as a field agent was to never, no matter the reason, let your briefcase out of your sight when outside of Headquarters. So even if Five’s mind was in a confused uproar, his instincts told him to not hand over the briefcase to anyone, not even his father.

“I can’t just give it up,” Five said. “This isn’t some toy.” A part of him couldn’t help but find some humor in the idea of Reginald confiscating it as if it were one of Klaus’ joints.

“I am quite aware,” Reginald said, twirling his ‘stache. “But we need it more. Now, hand it over, boy.”

Reginald held out an expectant hand, and Five could do nothing but stare at it. If he handed it over, he really would be done at the Commission, whether he figured the equation out or not. He was close, he could feel it, but if he didn’t get it right, there was no way the Handler was going to overlook the first mishap of his career without some sort of investigation. If it then came up that he’d given the briefcase to Reginald of all people, it might be enough of a link to give away his real plan to save his family, even if that hadn’t included Reginald at all. On the other hand, Reginald knew a lot,  _ too much _ , so maybe he really  _ did _ know what he was doing and need it more.

Five felt like he was drowning in sweat, his whole body was itching, and he had no idea what to do.

When he didn’t respond, Reginald’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step forward. “I’m right. You know I am. Don’t make me say it.”

A part of Five wondered what he was on about now while another was terrified that he already knew.

“Five,” Luther said, almost making Five jump out of his seat and instead making him let out a fart that everyone ignored. He’d honestly forgotten Luther was even there. “Just give us the briefcase and we’ll be out of here.” He sent Five a smile, his eyes nervously flickering to Reginald.

Five looked to Luther, then back to Reginald, just in time to see his father take a deep breath.

“Number Five,” he said, “you should have heeded my words the first time around. You never should have tried to travel through time.  _ I told you so _ .”

Five, who prided himself as much on his naturally born abilities as his brilliant mind, felt both break to a halt as whatever coherent thoughts and considerations he’d been having shattered and he instinctively tried and failed to blink away to  _ anywhere _ else. He barely registered that he clenched his fists, but he felt as well as saw out of the corner of his eyes the blue light appear and fade, his powers rendered useless in the face of absolute panic.

He didn’t even notice Luther step in front of him until he blocked his view of Reginald.

“That’s enough,” Luther said, sounding nervous and yet determined. “You can’t treat us like that anymore. It’s not right, and I won’t let you.”

“Number One, step aside,” Reginald sneered, and Five could just imagine his expression.

“No. I don’t even know why I agreed to help you in the first place. We’ll figure out some other way to get home, without  _ you _ terrorizing us like you have our whole lives.”

It was a strange feeling, having someone stand up for Five. All throughout the apocalypse, it had only been Dolores and him, and at Commission, there was no one he would trust to even pass him the coffee pot without poisoning it first. Even as a child, it had mostly been every sibling for themselves, pitted against each other as they were by their father. So to see Luther of all people stand up to Reginald was a rare sight indeed, and one Five didn’t quite know how to process or take advantage of other than following through on his instincts and getting the hell out of there.

As he quickly walked to the exit of the pub, he saw Reginald move to follow him, only to be stopped by Luther. “Unhand me, you wretched scoundrel!” he protested, not that it did him any good.

Five continued, his grip tight on the briefcase. The door was just about to shut behind him as he heard Reginald exclaim, “Luther, you goddamn idiot, let go!” It was only much, much later, after Five found himself in 1963  _ again _ , that he wondered why Reginald had used Luther’s name.

* * *

Great. As if a kid suddenly having Vanya’s wildly unstable powers wasn’t bad enough, now the Handler and Diego’s ex-girlfriend (if she could even be called that. Kids these days, they thought that one week of infiltrating, backstabbing, drugging, and kidnapping made for a serious relationship. Try being dedicated to one person for 45 years and married for 30, that’s how you become the best and last couple on earth.) had arrived. 

Five and Diego went to greet them, because trying to stop Diego would have been too much of a hassle and like hell was Five going to let his dumbass brother walk into the lion’s den alone. The idiot was bound to mess up somehow, and it was apparently Five’s job to clean up after him.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Five had made a few mistakes of his own.

“As the head of the Commission, I’ve decided to eliminate the criminals responsible for the assassination of the former board of directors,” the Handler said. Because of course she did. Because of course that treacherous, manipulative, narcissistic, creepy, power hungry, reneging woman would have one more trick up her sleeve.

“Yeah, right,” Diego said with a scoff. “We didn’t kill the board.” If only that were true.

Wait, it  _ could _ be true, if only…

But no. He hadn’t brought it with him. He’d been the last one to join Vanya and hadn’t wanted to risk running late, so he’d brought none of his props. Not even the smallest of ‘staches. Everything, from the suit to the monocle, was back at Elliott’s shop. And there was no way he would have time to get all the way there and back before the situation escalated and his family probably died.

Unless…

_ Seconds, not decades _ , a wise voice whispered in his mind. And just like that, Five knew what to do.

He started sprinting, stumbling through the snow as he headed for the house. He heard Diego yelling behind him but ignored it, running as fast as his legs could carry him. He would have blinked, but he needed all of the energy he could get for what he was about to do.

He passed Allison, Klaus, and Luther standing closer to the barn and heard them calling for him. Ignoring them as well, he finally arrived at Vanya’s car, hot-wired it, and set course for Dallas.

On the way, he tried his best to dispel his worries about it not working. His previous experiences with time travel told him that if he aimed for an hour, he would just end up going a century into the past, or perhaps even further than that. But no, this was definitely the only chance they had and well worth the risk of leaving his family to fend for themselves until he could come to their rescue.

It felt like an eternity had passed before he finally got to the old electronics shop, hurried to put it all on, and looked himself in the mirror.

He looked his reflection in the eyes and shifted his pose to something more fitting. He then told himself, “You can do this. You are Sir Reginald Hargreeves the Fifth. You make a living making other people miserable. You hand out child abuse for breakfast - sometimes literally. The Handler ain’t got shit on you.” He then donned the ‘stache and gave himself a satisfactory nod before clenching his fists and drawing upon all the power he could muster.

Sure, it would have been easier going back a few seconds, but he could probably manage several minutes, if he was careful. He didn’t even have to use much effort to travel the distance as he simply wanted to be at the same place he was at a specific time in the recent past. It was only a matter of projecting his current state back and replacing his past self. Without triggering a paradox, of course.

He felt time and space move around him, no,  _ because _ of him, as the world swirled. He was dragged out of the shop, down the long roads, and finally, he found himself where he was before, standing next to Diego and in front of Lila and the Handler.

They all jumped in surprise. Really, just the look of surprise on the Handler’s face was worth it all. He only wished he’d brought a camera.

“Jesus, Five!” Diego yelled, glaring his way.

The Handler, meanwhile, looked so wonderfully confused. “Where did he go?”

And Lila went from looking like she wanted to murder Five even more than usual to widening her eyes in recognition. “Veginald Garfield! Where did you come from?”

“Irrelevant,” Five said. “Now, as Number Two here was trying so miserably to convey, the culprit is not here.”

Diego frowned at that. “Culprit?”

Five looked between him and the Handler, whose look had turned into an unfortunately familiar one of intrigue. 

“A bit too early. I see,” Five said. He’d hoped to return to the exact point where he’d run off, but oh well. “You are here for the rapscallion who so rudely exterminated the board of the Commission, correct, madame?” He tried his best to not sneer, though he wasn’t that successful.

“Why, yes, I…” The Handler looked between Five and Diego. “It has come to my attention that it was the Hargreeves who assassinated them. As such, we’re sadly required to eliminate them.”

“What? We didn’t kill the board,” Diego said. Great, they were back on track.

“That is entirely accurate,” Five said. “ _ We _ didn’ kill them. However,  _ Number Five _ did what he  _ had _ to to get his family home.”

Diego had the audacity to look angry at that. “You did  _ what? _ ”

“ _ I _ did nothing. Do keep up, Number Two,” Five said.

“Aw,” the Handler said, giving Diego a poor impersonation of a pitying look. “He didn’t tell you?”

“He told none of them,” Five said. “Which is why they are of no importance in this matter. Eliminating them is simply not worth the effort.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” the Handler said, her sickly sugary sweet smile back. “And where did that wiley little piece of shit go?”

Five let out a dignified scoff. “He ran away faster than a three-legged possum in a slanted outhouse.” It wasn’t a lie, technically, even if he wasn’t quite sure of the speed of a three-legged possum.

“So what, he left his family behind?” The Handler didn’t look like she was buying it. Then again, if she didn’t see through Five’s disguise, she was going to have a hard time finding him anywhere else.

“Of course. That seems to be his only talent,” he said and whipped out his pocket watch, looking at it with a disinterest that screamed that his time was far too precious for these trifles. 

The Handler tipped her head slightly to the right. “You seem to know an awful lot. Are you involved with this little gang?”

“You could say that. They are  _ my _ experiments, and as such, I’d have to prevent this so-called  _ elimination _ you’re blabbering about,” Five said. “In case I haven’t introduced myself, I am Sir Reginald Hargreeves, and I do not stand insolence from anyone. That includes you and your Commission.”

The Handler’s smile fell as her jaw dropped. It was a look that seemed quite strange on her, but Five found it suited her.

“Reginald Hargreeves?” she repeated. She then looked to Diego, then the barn, and kicked the dirt in anger. “ _ Shit! _ ”

“What? What does it matter?” Lila said. “Mom, just call in the army and let’s kill them already. Five can’t be far.”

“Sweetie,” the Handler said, her tone as maternal as the real Reginald’s had been paternal, “there’s a difference between playing it loose with the timeline and ripping it to shreds, stitching back whatever scraps are left. This would be more like the latter.”

“Oh, come on! I’ve seen Vegetable Garden in action, and I could totally take him. He doesn’t even have powers!” Lila whined. Five would almost feel bad for the Handler for having to deal with her if she weren't  _ the Handler _ .

“Believe me, you don’t wanna do that,” the Handler said. She then plastered on a polite smile and directed it at Five. “I don’t suppose we could strike a deal? If not the whole lot, we could settle for Number Five. Troublemaker that he is, he can’t be of much use to you.”

He thought about that. He  _ could _ tell her to get lost and make up some excuse that he was more useful to himself alive than dead. And he really did want to say something along the lines of, “get off my daughter’s girlfriend’s lawn.” But, if there was any way he was going to get his family home in one piece, this was probably it.

“I will not just give away what is mine for nothing,” Five said, twirling his ‘stache. “However, I suppose I could be persuaded to leave him to fend for himself if you were to hand over one of them briefcases.” 

He eyed the item in question in the Handler’s hand with hungry eyes and thought of how that single thing could solve all their problems. If this deal could work, if he could actually persuade her to part with one…

“And what would you want with that?” the Handler asked, a look he recognized as true perplexion on her face. “Surely, you don’t wish to time travel yourself, do you?”

No, she probably wouldn’t let him if Reginald really was  _ that _ important to the timeline. “Of course not. But these hooligans,” he glared at Diego, “have caused enough havoc. I have important work to do, and they’ve been nothing but a nuisance. I want them gone, preferably back to wherever they came from.”

The Handler seemed to think it over, then nodded. “Fine. But they have to leave now. And I want to observe their departure, just to make sure Five doesn’t join them.”

“It’s a deal,” Five said, biting back a grimace as they shook on it.

* * *

The Handler left to take care of things and hopefully pick up a spare briefcase, all the while complaining about having to reassign some field agents. Before leaving, she set Lila to keep watch ‘in case that menace Number Five comes back.’ Five wasn’t quite sure how the Handler thought Lila would be much of a match, but alright. At least, instead of meddling, Lila just stood back, brooding as if  _ she _ were the one in the teenage body.

And really, if Five had thought the Handler and Lila’s expressions had been funny, it was nothing compared to his siblings’. Already when they approached the small group standing outside the barn, he noticed how Allison and Klaus were staring. As he got closer, he noticed that Luther was glaring at him, because apparently he  _ still _ hadn’t gotten anything into that thick gnoggin of his.

“Number One, Number Three, Number Four,” Five said when they were within earshot. “Cease your dillydallying and come along now.”

“What the hell are  _ you _ doing here?” Luther demanded to know.

Thankfully, this time, Five wasn’t alone in convincing his dumbass brother to behave.

Diego sighed. “I know this looks ridiculous, but just… listen to him. Come on.”

Allison’s eyes widened. “Diego, are you alright?” she asked. Klaus just let out a nervous laugh beside her.

“Not to worry, Number Two is his usual useless self,” Five said. He couldn’t afford to go easy on the imitation now, not with the Handler’s daughter breathing down his neck and their chance of getting home depending solely on her whims.

“Sure…” Klaus drawled. “Hey, where did our sweet little Five go?” 

It took whatever little scrap of restrain Five had left not to snark back at being called something so demeaning.

Meanwhile, Diego paused. “Really? You don’t...” He looked between Five and their siblings. “You’ve  _ got _ to be kidding me.”

“If you did something to him...” Luther said, taking a threatening step towards Five.

“Now, now, big fella,” Five said, “Number Five is irrelevant. This…” he gave Lila a once-over, skipping the list of insults that first came to mind and settling for something a tad more diplomatic. “This lady and I have settled on an agreement that will allow you miscreants to return to your own time and get out of my magnificent hair.” He twirled the ‘stache for effect.

Allison frowned at that. “Why would you help us _? _ ”

“Because, you bothersome troublemaker, I want you gone, the whole lot of you,” Five said. He almost put his hands in his pockets but then settled for pulling at the lapels of the jacket. “You are, simply put, an annoyance.”

Klaus let out a laugh. “Thanks, Pops. Father of the year, right there.” He turned back to the barn.

Five was about to follow when Luther stepped in his way, seeming to do quite a good impression himself of a brick wall.

“How do we know we can trust you?” Luther asked.

Five supposed that was a good question. Then again, “You can’t, I suppose. But if you have another method of safely and accurately travelling back to 2019, be my guest.”

They didn’t, and they all knew it. As things were, they were more likely to move forwards the normal way, growing older day by day until  _ some _ of them would live to see the time they’d come from. If any of them really wanted to go back, if Allison wanted to see her daughter again, they had no choice but to make this deal.

Diego sighed. “Look, I know how this looks…” he shot Five a look. “...apparently… but trust  _ me _ , we should listen to him, just this once.”

“Fine, but what does this ‘agreement’ entail, exactly?” Allison asked, her arms crossed.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Number Three,” Five said. He was losing patience with their healthy skepticism and camaraderie. Since when did they have any of that? Putting as much authority into his voice as he could, Five commanded, “Now, get back to that barn this instant or it’ll be straight to bed with no dinner, young miss!”

That seemed to do the trick, making Allison hurry to the barn, followed closely by Luther and Klaus, all of them taking long and quick strides while still maintaining what could be considered a civilized pace. Lila followed behind, muttering something about unfairness to herself.

Vanya was hugging the kid when they arrived. She turned around at the sound of their approach, smiled, and then the smile fell the second she laid eyes on Five. “Dad?” she said shakily, getting up and standing in front of the kid.

Five cleared his throat. “Number Seven.” This could get tricky. He still couldn’t afford to go easy on any of them, but this was  _ Vanya _ . Besides, now that she had her memories back, her…  _ issues _ with their father had probably returned as well.

Sure enough, her eyes started lighting up. “What are you doing here?” she said, her voice turning hard.

Diego took a step forward. “Vanya, don’t worry. He’s gonna get us home.”

Vanya narrowed her eyes. “No way. I don’t trust him for a second.”

Five took a deep breath. This was gonna hurt, but he couldn’t afford to pull any stops now. “Number Seven, behave or you’ll have nothing but oatmeal for a week.”

The light in Vanya’s eyes quickly faded and she murmured a shy “Sorry.” She shuffled her feet and seemed to almost shrink in on herself, trying to make herself seem smaller.

Beside her, Vanya’s girlfriend looked between Vanya and Five, confusion clear on her face. “Isn’t that the boy from before?”

Shit.

Five’s eyes widened before he could stop himself. Was his cover going to be blown by a damn farm wife?

Diego, meanwhile, looked starstruck. “I like you. Please stay with Vanya forever.”

“What? No. That’s our dear old Papa,” Klaus said, disdain clear in his voice despite his chipper tune.

Unfortunately, Sissy didn’t buy it. “Come on, that’s a teenager with a fake mustache. He can’t possibly be older than any of y’all.”

Shit shit shit shit-

“Oh, no, that’s Vegan Grinch,” Lila said, finally deciding to speak up but still sounding bitter. “He’s  _ such _ a big deal, apparently. Little old shit.”

“Yes,” Five said, shaken out of his stupor by the surprising save from Lila. “I’m Sir Reginald Hargreeves the Fifth. Pleasure to make my acquaintance, I’m sure.”

Sissy blinked. “But you’re that kid from before. One of Vanya’s brothers, with the school uniform.”

“What? No, he’s not Five,” Vanya said, having found a bit of courage. “I mean, they  _ do _ act alike sometimes-”

“That’s two weeks of oatmeal, young miss!” Five said. “Keep up that attitude and I’ll revoke your privileges to visit your girlfriend here. Amnesia or no amnesia.”

“Ugh, you’re not even my real dad!” Vanya stamped in the ground, making the barn shake, not that she seemed to notice.

“You don’t have a real dad,” Five reminded her.

“Well, I wish you’d never bought me!”

“So do I, Number Seven. So do I.” Five shook his head. He was getting too into character. “Everyone, just… sit back and wait for the briefcase to arrive. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

* * *

The Handler  _ did _ eventually bring the briefcase, right after Allison returned from saying her goodbyes to her husband and the others finished a game of Uno, Klaus being crowned the winner.

Five had wanted to participate, but one look from Luther and Vanya told him that would  _ not _ have been a good idea. While it had its perks, pretending to Reginald certainly also had its downsides. Instead of having fun with his siblings for the first time in over four decades, he was forced to stand aside, listening to Lila complain about him.

“-And, like, I got so traumatized, you know? I can’t even”

“Uh-huh.”

“And he just, like, totally killed my parents! Like, who does that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m so looking forward to totally killing him. Like, I’m still not even sure if I should go with decapitation or defenestration”

“Uh-huh.”

Okay, claiming that he was listening to whatever she was ranting about wouldn’t have been completely true. Instead, he’d zoned out and started counting prime numbers. He was currently at 87178291199. It was the first time in two week he was bored, and he  _ hated it _ .

It was also the first time he felt relieved at the appearance of the Handler. Whether she brought the briefcase or wanted to end his miserable existence, he didn’t care, as long as he got away from her horrid daughter.

“Any sign of Number Five?” the Handler asked her.

Lila scoffed. “No. The coward’s really run off.”

The Handler sighed. “Shame.” She then handed the briefcase to Five. “A deal’s a deal, I suppose.”

He checked the briefcase, expecting it to be set to somewhere in the Jurassic era or maybe millions of years into the future. But no, it was programmed to just the right setting. April 2, 2019, at the Umbrella Academy’s address.

This was easy. Too easy. There was something fishy about this. Something he’d missed, something she wanted… but what? She was already the new head of the Commission, she  _ knew _ Five wouldn’t go back to work with them, so why would she possibly want his siblings out of her way?

Then it hit him. Of course. It was a horrible thought, a  _ vile _ thought, but it was the only one that made sense for such a despicable person as the Handler.

The Handler had a crush on Reginald Hargreeves.

“Right. We’d better get going,” Five said, hurrying to his siblings. He felt nauseous at the mere thought of the two worst people he knew together and did  _ not _ want to find out how direct the Handler could be in her flirting.

“Everyone, hold hands. And hold on  _ tight _ ,” Five instructed, waiting for his siblings to scramble together.

Klaus, idiot that he was, took extra time in order to pick up a new hat.

“Wait,” Vanya said, just as they were about to stand in a circle. “What about Five?”

“Oh, he’s not coming,” the Handler said. She sent Five a smile, then directed it at Vanya. “That was part of the deal. You don’t mind, do you?”

Five didn’t even try to hide his scowl. Did she want them to leave or not?

“What? No way,” Vanya said, crossing her arms. “If we’re going, we’re  _ all _ going.” The other siblings nodded and gathered at her side.

It was sweet, really. Not only was Vanya becoming confident enough to take a proper stand, but she was finally being included by their siblings, standing with them instead of to the side. It would have been touching if not for the fact that it had taken her  _ hours _ to notice he ostensibly wasn’t there and that he really,  _ really _ just needed them to play along.

He sent Diego a look, which seemed to work as the idiot’s eyes lit up and he gave up his own stubborn stance, nodding to himself.

“Hey, guys, not to sound like a cold-hearted asshole, but I think we should do it,” Diego said, grimacing as he did. He knew, just as well as Five, what was about to happen.

As if on command, the rest of their siblings started yelling at him. Five didn’t catch all of it, but he did hear several mentions of Diego being “egotistical” and “self-absorbed.” It then quickly dissolved into petty jibes that had absolutely nothing to do with the situation at hand.

At some point, for some godforsaken reason, Diego started yelling back, and then Lila joined in, and Five was left standing there beside the Handler, wanting so desperately to just end it all. Would the apocalypse really be that bad? Maybe the crazy bat was right and it’d only be the end of something, that something being his misery.

Finally, Vanya seemed to have had enough and used her power to amplify a loud, “HEY!” letting out a shockwave that almost sent the others to the floor and thankfully shut them up.

She calmed down, the white light disappearing from her eyes as she looked between Five and the Handler. “We’re not doing it. Team Zero sticks together.”

“Hell yeah!” Diego said, before remembering what side he was on and grimacing again.

“Yeah, he may be a little meanie, but he’s  _ our _ little meanie,” Klaus said.

Diego then got a dangerous grin, one that Five knew meant he’d gotten a immensely idiotic idea that wouldn’t lead to anything good. “Yeah, he can be mean. That’s why we should leave him,” he said, a sly smile on his face. “You know what he said, Klaus?”

Klaus whipped his head around. “What?”

“He said Dave was too good for you.”

Klaus shrugged. “He was.”

“Uh, I mean, he said  _ you _ were too good for  _ Dave _ .”

“He wouldn’t dare!” Klaus said with a gasp.

“Uh-huh.” Diego stopped to think for a moment. “He said Dave was… stupid.”

Klaus just raised an eyebrow. “Five calls everyone stupid.” Because they were, case in point.

“He said he was stupid...” Diego said, trailing off, “...And ugly.”

Klaus let out an undignified squawk, striding away from the siblings. “Fine. Let’s leave that bastard.”

That… actually worked? Diego had an idea? And executed it? And it worked??? Five didn’t even know who the hell this Dave was supposed to be! Something was wrong, but whatever, Five was going to run with it if it meant he could finally save his stupid siblings.

“Klaus! You can’t be serious!” Allison said.

Well, if this was how they were going to go about it…

“Your hair’s nice,” Five said.

Allison blinked. Her confusion was shared with most everyone else. “Uh… thanks?”

“That’s what Five said,” Five said. “Your hair’s nice… but the hair you had in 2019 was nicer. Less stupid.” Maybe that was too much. Was it too much? If Diego could start crying over his most obvious flaws being laid out and Luther could start sobbing because he finally realized what everyone had been telling him for years, it was really hard to tell how much it took for them all to decide it was time for another emotional breakdown. It was almost as if they didn’t understand that the best way to deal with emotions was repress them and shove them so far into the darkness you called a soul that others didn’t even know they were there.

“Okay… Duly noted,” Allison said, exchanging a look with Vanya.

Alright, not enough. That was fine, he could turn it up a bit. “Also, he said you’re a terrible mother.”

Allison’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

Great, that seemed to be doing the trick. “He said you’re an absolutely horrible parent. Just the worst. Basically as bad as Da- I mean me. Can’t even make smiley-pancakes correctly,” Five said. He tried to send Diego a wink to show him he was in on it as well, but Diego simply stared at Allison, looking beyond terrified.

“He said  _ what? _ ” Allison said between clenched teeth. Okay, maybe that had been a tad too much.

Welp, as long as it worked. “Is something wrong with your hearing, Number Three?” He then turned to Luther. “Number One, Number Five said that-”

“-That you talk too much about the moon,” Diego cut him off. When Luther sent him a hurt look, he put his hands up in surrender. “No offense, man, but you do.”

“Oh, and you haven’t spent every opportunity you had bringing up John F. Kennedy?” Luther said.

Oh no, this could get out of hand really fast.

“Irrelevant. Number One, will that suffice in persuading you to abandon this meaningless cause?” Five asked him.

Luther opened his mouth to say something, closed it, then opened it again, but before anything could come out, Allison cut him off. “Yes, it is. That son of a bitch can rot for all we care.”

“Guys, he’s still our brother,” Vanya said, the only one to still stand her ground.

Of course she’d be the last one. And of course Five would have a hard time thinking of  _ anything _ he could plausibly say that would push her away. How could he? It was  _ Vanya _ .

Thankfully, Diego was ready. “He’s pissed about you causing the apocalypse and all that.”

Vanya’s eyes widened in hurt before she nodded. “I understand that. And I’ll have to talk it over with him. Properly. But we should still take him with us home.”

Diego exchanged a look with Five before trying again. “He also said that… that your violin-playing is pretty shit.”

She simply raised an eyebrow at that. “No offense, but I trust his taste in music as much as he would trust me to figure out his temporal equations.”

That was fair, he supposed. He’d never been able to tell anything more about Vanya’s music other than it sounded nice and was pleasant to read to.

Five took a slow, deep breath. It seemed it was up to him. He only hoped she could one day find it in her to forgive him. “He also said that your fluffernutter sandwiches are only decent.”

Vanya blinked. She then let out a half-hearted scoff, one that did little to distract from her worried brow. “No he didn’t. He loves my fluffernutters.”

Five fiddled with the hem of his suit jacket, looking anywhere but at her. It was hard enough to do this without looking at those big, hurt eyes. “He said yours are just bland. Even Klaus makes them better.” Lies, all lies, Klaus was always too ‘creative’ and put in all kinds of stuff that had no place being in a sandwich, and nothing tasted better than something made with love. But if it could push his siblings to just pick up that briefcase, he’d say it.

Vanya looked down. “I see,” she said in a quiet voice. She sniffed and was welcomed into Allison’s embrace.

Five looked over his newly hurt siblings. Another job well done, he supposed.

“So, will you be on your way?” he asked. He looked into each of their eyes and saw that he needed no verbal answer. They were ready to leave, and so was he.

“Right,” he said and handed Diego the briefcase. “Unclasp these and you should be on your way.” When Diego sent him a questioning look, he cleared his throat and took a step back, careful to not stand too close to them while still keeping his distance from the Handler. “You could do it with a countdown, for dramatic effect.”

It took the idiot a moment, but Diego’s eyes eventually lit up in understanding. He nodded and made sure that each of the siblings were gathered in a circle.

“So,” Diego said, casting a last look at Five. “Ten… nine…”

While he counted, Five decided to squeeze out his last bit of fun. “You know, I think I remember Number Five’s location,” he said.

The Handler’s head snapped in his direction. “What? Where?”

“...Six... _ Five _ …”

“He’s awfully close, actually,” Five said. He kept his gaze on his siblings, but out the corner of his eye he could catch the Handler stepping nearer.

“Where?” she said, her hard voice betraying her smile.

“...Two...One…”

Five blinked, appearing right behind Diego and gripping his arm tightly. With the other hand, he ripped off the ‘stache. “Right here!”

The last thing he saw before the familiar feeling of a swoosh in his stomach and his brain getting stomped by elephants hit him was the Handler’s dumbfounded face. It was a sight he would cherish forever.

Thankfully, it didn’t feel like too long before they were all spit out on the other end. Only a quick look at the newspaper that was conveniently placed on the table right where they’d landed was necessary to confirm that they were indeed in 2019. On the day after the original apocalypse, no less. And right in the heart of the Academy.

“April 2, 2019,” Five said, looking around at his siblings. They’d made it. They’d actually made it.

“Five?” Luther said, confused as ever.

“You’ve got some nerve showing your face here,” Allison said. The fury in her eyes would have been enough to make Five run for his life if he hadn’t lived through half of what he had.

“Alright,” he said with a sigh, “let me explain.”

Vanya shook her head. “Our friendship is over. From now on, Ben is my favourite sibling.”

Great, so not only was he now competing with his brother, who was a ghost, he was now competing with his brother, who was a  _ dead _ ghost.

They then stormed off, leaving Five and Diego behind.

Five couldn’t even bring it in him to care. His siblings were alive and well and home, and that was all he’d wanted. They could hate him for the rest of their lives and he’d still be satisfied with that had happened.

Still, that didn’t stop him from complaining about them.

“Our siblings are a bunch of morons,” he told Diego. “Really, its- hey!”

Diego had swiped the ‘stache from his hand and now held it in a tight grip. “That’s it. No more of this shit,” he said.

“Don’t be a child, Diego,” Five said, trying to take the ‘stache back, only for Diego to hold it up over his head, keeping it just out of arm’s reach.

“I’m not the one dressing up and pretending to be Dad all the damn time,” Diego said. “It’s fucked up!”

Five gave up trying to take it back to save himself whatever was left of his dignity before he resorted to jumping up and down like an actual child. “How else was I supposed to get the briefcase? Say fucking please?”

“It shouldn’t be your first plan every damn time!” Diego’s voice was only getting louder. “I  _ don’t _ understand you! Why the hell do you even do it?”

Five felt something inside him snap. “I don’t know, Diego,” he sneered. “Maybe it’s because I wanna save you guys! Maybe it’s because I miss actually looking my age and being able to grow my own ‘stache! Maybe it’s because I miss being treated like an actual human being instead of a goddamn child! Maybe it’s because I’ve had a long fucking two weeks and just wanna be  _ done  _ with this shit!”

Diego eyed him for a moment. “You know what? I think you just have daddy issues.”

Five wasn’t exactly a calm man, but he didn’t yell. He didn’t  _ like _ to yell. If he wanted to intimidate someone, he’d growl and hiss and threaten his way through. If he wanted to be heard, he’d wait until the other person was done talking, or he’d deem it not worth the effort. In his experience, yelling never led to anything good, to anything  _ productive _ , so he simply didn’t do it.

This time, however, he did.

“NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: WE  _ ALL _ HAVE DADDY ISSUES!” He then stormed off in the direction his other siblings had gone.

He was so angry that it took him a moment to notice that Allison, Vanya, Klaus, and Luther were just standing there, staring. Then he noticed what they were staring at: Ben. Alive. And with emo hair? And behind him, there were four shadowy figures, as well as what looked to be a floating green cube.

Of course, on the other side was the son of a bitch Reginald goddamn Hargreeves.

“Shit,” Five said.

There was a lot to unpack here. Too much. Enough that, when Diego entered, looking as perplexed as the rest of them, Five didn’t as much think as react on the one plan that hadn’t failed him the past week.

He made a grab for the ‘stache, only for Diego to pull his hand away just in time. What followed was neither graceful nor mature. It was two grown men reduced to infants, scrabbling for the fake ‘stache as they would the last cookie in the jar, if that jar of cookies was also the last in existence. No one intervened as they fought with moves so sloppy that it surely made Reginald shake his head in embarrassment.

“Gimme!” Five insisted.

“No!” Diego replied.

But Five was not about to call it quits. Thankfully, an idea struck. 

This wasn’t the first time Diego had acted like a stubborn fool in the living room. It hadn’t been that long since Five had thought his troubles with the apocalypse were finally over and had sat down, relaxed, and watched as his idiot brother took on the person who most likely could have cleared his name of an unrightful murder charge.

It only took a quick glance to confirm that dear old Reginald’s taste was shit in any timeline and that he still had the same glass vase standing on the same table. A blink there and back later, Five broke it over Diego’s head and watched as he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Five took a moment to catch his breath before picking up the ‘stache, staring Ben straight in the eyes, and carefully putting it on.

Ben gasped. “Dad?”

Five’s siblings, looking just as shocked, took a step away from him. Five, meanwhile, twirled around to stare his father down.

“What is the meaning of this?” Reginald said.

“I’ll say,” Five said. “Children, it seems we have an imposter in our midst. Take him out.”

“Imposter?” Reginald scoffed. “ _ You _ are clearly the imposter. To think I thought you the reasonable one; you truly are foolish if you think putting on a fake ‘stache will convince anyone.”

“Wh...why are there two Dads?” Ben asked. Excellent.

“I’ll tell you why,” Five said. For a second, his mind was drawing a blank, until he supposed that the same trick that worked a week ago might as well work now. He pointed at Reginald “ _ He _ is an alien in disguise! And he’s come to infiltrate the academy!” Five wasn’t sure if his imagination was playing tricks on him or if Reginald’s eyes actually widened slightly at that.

“Preposterous,” Reginald said. “He’s the one who looks like a child.”

Klaus looked between them. “I don’t know, can any of you guys tell the difference?”

A gathering of “no”s came from his siblings, as well as the figures standing up in the shadows. A series of beeps that sounded suspiciously like “no” in Morse code came from the floating green cube.

“See? He thinks I look like a child when I’m clearly the oldest person in a room,” Five said, twirling his ‘stache. “That’s alien behavior for you. They don’t understand human progression.”

“That  _ is _ pretty sus, Dad,” Ben said. The others nodded.

It didn’t take more than that to convince the others to kick Reginald out of his own house - and what a joy that was to witness. 

* * *

That night, after a party to celebrate that they stopped the apocalypse and that Reginald Hargreeves was gone for good, Five stood by himself in the courtyard, in the exact same spot he’d dropped when he’d time travelled two weeks ago.

He looked around, making sure no one else was within sight, before taking the ‘stache out of his pocket. He then spent a good while staring at it, remembering all the good and stressful and unpleasant memories with it, before dropping it into the little hole he’d dug and covering it up.

For now, his days masquerading as Reginald Hargreeves the Fifth were done. He could only hope that he could move forward as Number Five.

“Fivey! Allison wants to use you for target practice again!” Klaus’ voice called from one of the windows above.

“Coming!” Five called back, a smile on his face.


End file.
